


Checking In

by Wireslide



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 14:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20996054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wireslide/pseuds/Wireslide
Summary: Lance and Shiro check into a condo after a day of travel.





	Checking In

"I asked him what building it was in like, three times, but he always said it exactly the same so it sounded like, 'bfsdluh,'" he flopped into the passenger seat of the car with a sigh, pulling the seat belt into place and sorting through the paperwork in his free hand. One piece went onto the dashboard with a tired flap of long fingers. "That's our parking thing. We're just gonna have to drive around and try to find the numbers."

The driver bit back a reflexive sigh with little success, then shrugged. "I guess so," he agreed, putting the vehicle into reverse and pulling into the loop surrounding the condo.

"It's a good thing we arrived the night before so we don't have to worry about doing this while we're tired," the passenger joked. "Can you read any of the numbers?"

Squinting at the nondescript beige siding in the dark, Shiro shook his head. "It's too dark to see."

"Pull up over here and I'll get out and check."

The headlights shone in the face of a mother and small child as he pulled in beside them, and Shiro grimaced an apology through the windshield. The mother flashed him a small smile. The passenger door opened, closed, opened again. "These are in the eighties," Lance announced, "we gotta keep going." His seatbelt clicked.

Another building, the lights over the doors casting yellow shadows over the too-small numbers printed on the placards in black and white. They rounded the back of the complex. "Pull over again," the light on the gearshift was hardly on 'P' when Lance's door opened again and he got out.

Shiro sighed and got out his phone, checking social media feeds to guess at how big the crowd would be tomorrow. He reread the series of texts from Katie demanding a string of reassurances; that he would be there, that he would dress appropriately, that he would remind Keith that 'black tie' didn't mean he could just throw one on over a t-shirt, that he wasn't coming alone. He even checked his uplink with Atlas to make sure the sentient ship knew when she was supposed to connect with the event's surveillance systems so she wouldn't be left out.

Lance still hadn't returned.

He straightened up and started to look around in alarm, immediate thoughts of terrible deeds happening ten yards away stampeding through his mind. His phone buzzed; Lance was texting him.

_Babe, it's right by where we checked in. Go back to where you parked at first._

He felt himself relax, laughed at his own foolishness--as though Lance couldn't take care of himself!--and texted back a quick '_k_' before setting his phone in the cup holder and putting the car in reverse again and heading back towards the office.

Lance was standing on the first set of stairs behind the office, and waved was he pulled up. He opened his door as Lance came to the car. "Well okay then," the bigger man sighed.

Lance's faint smile was infectious as he held out a key card. "This one's yours, we're right up the stairs to the left. Can you get the cooler bag?"

"Yeah babe, no problem." Before he was all the way out of the car, the leggy brunette was already on his way to the back of the car to gather his things. Shiro leaned against the open hatch. "Did you get the containers for microwaving the things?"

"Yup," Lance grabbed the case of soda and the gallon of fruit juice, "you got all that?"

"Yeah, just gotta put my makeup in my bag," Shiro carefully settled the two pouches in the top of his bag, then set his phone beside them. The straps of his tote and the insulated bag both went over his shoulder, and he carried them up to the room, making sure the car locked behind him.

Lance held the door for him as he waddled in, huffing, to set everything on the bed. "That's kind of heavy for that strap," he noted, rubbing his shoulder.

"You okay?" The leggy Cuban asked, already unzipping the cooler to put the food in the full-sized fridge.

"Yeah, no biggie." He stuck his head in the kitchenette. "...We don't have an oven."

"Guess we'll have to have the pizza when we get home, then."

**Home**. The word rang like a church bell in Shiro's belly, and he only realized he was smiling stupidly at Lance when the beautiful man when those rich blue eyes squinted at him. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Lance repeated gently.

"It's just, I really wanted pizza, and," Shiro wrapped his arms around Lance and buried his face in his hair, "I am home." One hand slid down the length of Lance's back.

"That's really sweet, but we can order in and you cannot cook a pizza on my ass."


End file.
